He had to admire the girl, she'd talked him into this with that very thought in mind. Apparently there was a lot of brain in that little body of hers, Derrango thought, smiling only slightly in approval.
Mairi snorted. “Thanks but I've got a job. It's about time I got back to it actually,” she said, smiling. “Thanks though,” she said, giving him a polite nod as she turned and left.
...*...*...*...*...
There was still a big investigation to perform. The justice system tried to keep the media out of it but of course the more they tried the more interested the media became. Eventually the DA and Sheriff Derrango met with the dogs and warned them not to discuss the case with each other or with anyone else. “If you do you could taint any jury pool and therefore taint any chance of getting a conviction. Loose lips sink ships!” the DA warned with one finger raised.
Savo snorted. He'd been around enough investigations to see the writing on the wall. “A gag order? Not going to work councilor, the whole thing is out on the net for everyone to see. And no, we're not shutting up when someone may get away with it. That includes station council members. If one is involved I want their ass.” His brown eyes looked into the DA. “They aren't immune to prosecution.”
“No, not they aren't,” the DA said slowly when Derrango turned to stare as well.
Derrango tipped his hat back. “We'll get to the bottom of things,” he said. “You've got my word, justice will be done,” he said simply. Savo nodded. He didn't trust the lawyer, but Derrango was a different story. He had a sense of honor.
It was sabotage obviously, though some tried to feed accident and inept Yard dog handling and hardware to the media. However Clio and the sheriff proved otherwise. The Sheriff and AI showed a meeting between Hafif and the corporate flack 'Mario' in a shady bar called the blue plate special. Harif was arrested when he tried to run in a shuttle to the planet. “Where the hell do you think you're going?” The deputy asked, yanking the kid up by the scruff of the neck. The kid whimpered, nearly pissing his pants.
Dreyfus and Mario the corporate flack were both implicated and went into hiding briefly. They turned up when Mario was spotted by Olga and turned in for a reward.
A warrant was served on the McDougall corporation under the ever watchful eyes of the media. McDougall Corporation took a hit as staffers either clammed up damning themselves or fell all over themselves offering tidbits of information implicating others in exchange for immunity from prosecution. Overnight stocks tumbled, they were hammered in every media forum and by their clients who broke contracts and left in droves to distance themselves from the fiasco.
Ian and Malcolm McDougall were implicated. They had already gone into hiding, but were trapped on the station. Their father raged from the planet, the 'grand old man' had a heart attack during an on camera rant and had to be rushed to the nearest medical facility. His collapse forced the twins out of hiding. They attempted to leave the station to attend to their father but the AI's monitoring ticket purchases used facial recognition to pick them out of the crowd despite their attempt at using false names. Security isolated them. Ian hung his head in defeat as they were cuffed. “Like common criminals!” Malcolm snarled, threatening them. This too was added to the list of charges against them. His threats and being hauled off in chains and his brother's acidic comment to shut up made system wide news.
Mario, Dreyfus, and Harif turned on the McDougall and RinWerks corporations as states evidence. They had their chance to tell their stories on the witness stand, detailing how all the Major corporations and the space station wanted the equipment the Yard dogs had. But they couldn't seize or steal it, due to the justice system and the limits they had found out about the dog's hardware. Since it was all encrypted so only the dogs could use it they had hatched a new plan. They'd found out about the loop hole, the company could be driven into bankruptcy or be forced to agree to sell the equipment. When their market manipulations and other ploys failed they were forced to more sterner measures.
Mr. Kenny Kennet was implicated in the scandal, but he had kept enough cut outs between him and Dreyfus, Harif, and Mario to keep himself out of trouble. He had pointedly answered no comment when questioned by the media, and when on the stand he'd refused to answer questions due to his Federation Constitutional right not to implicate himself.
...*...*...*...*...
Kennet was forced from the council. He fumed, at ends on what to do. Finally he managed to get a meeting with Yan Fu several days later. A tired looking Yan Fu who worked on his calligraphy and who patiently explained what a fool he had been. Kennet rallied, but Fu interrupted him. “Me. I meant me. You as well of course, but to begin with me.” This stopped Kennet in his tracks. “I was a fool for wanting to get rid of Irons, I realize that error in judgment now. I tried to make amends before the admiral left, and if he should return I will do my best to restore my honor,” he said simply, setting his calligraphy brush down. He stroked his beard with a faraway look for a long moment.
Finally he harrumphed and turned back to the painting he had been working on. He studied it for a long moment, judging it imperfect, just like himself and his wayward student.
Kennet cleared his throat. Annoyed Fu looked up. Kennet tried to argue that he had been following the master's principles and teachings, but Yan explained that the Yard Dogs couldn't make weapons, and therefore couldn't make warships. “They were never a threat, in fact they were an asset you should have nurtured.” All they can currently do was repair ships and make sublight platforms and craft. Kennet was humiliated, head down, eyes burning in shame. Yan Fu dismissed him with a wave, informing him he needed to meditate on such things in his exile.
He left the quarters in a daze, now not sure what to do with his cyber life. One thing was for certain, he had plenty of time to reflect on his many errors.
...*...*...*...*...
The station council backed the Yard dogs in a news conference. Yan Fu and the Berkhearts made a big deal out of their ongoing support and of paying their legal fees and making the guilty corporations and Kenny Kennet pay for the repairs and medical costs. Both corporations go bankrupt. Yard dogs received a settlement as well as controlling interest in the McDougall corporation's space venture. They folded it's assets into the yard dogs in a merger. Many in the corporation were now eager to please, if only to keep their jobs. Then a starship came in and they negotiated a rebuild in exchange for a load of prime material. When the negotiation was agreed upon they eagerly went to work.
...*...*...*...*...
“And that's that,” Mairi said, grinning. She now had a dozen pilots under her now. She still flew of course, but she liked not being the only pilot. With the burden lifted from her shoulders she felt like a new woman, more relaxed and not nearly as pressured. She had a home and was comfortable in her job. Olga had moved out, she had gone ground side to date someone and hadn't returned. At this point Mairi didn't care anymore. Her mother would land on her feet... or she wouldn't. She had more important things on her mind, like rebuilding the future.
“Mairi, come on, let's go, we've got a schedule to keep!” Sparks said, waving a tablet. “Let's get this whale peeled and fixed up! We've only got a week!” he called.
“Yeah, coming,” Mairi replied cheerfully, waving as she climbed into the Bitch. The Red Rover a Conestoga class freighter was in the slip, already robots and space hands were hard at work tearing into her systems. “Coming!” she called, dropping down into her tug. “It's great to be alive,” she said, grinning as she strapped in and keyed the start up sequence. She patted her arm rests, following tradition. “Come on baby, time to get to work.”
The end
The adventures of Nohar Private Investigator
Note: The events in this story are just prior to Plague planet.
Chapter 1
Nohar flicked his ears as Jerry rolled his eyes. He smelled a familiar scent as someone bellied up to the bar on his off side. He turned slightly to see an expectant R
ajar there. The neolion flicked his ears in greeting.
Nohar heard the Jerry the neochimp on his left snort in good humor. They both knew what was coming from the black manned young neolion. Rajar, like many of the other youth's, loved hearing war stories. They loved hearing them from other Neo's, and on an off day Nohar could trade war stories to pay his bar tab. But right now it was paid up he didn't want to. Besides, he wanted to drink and not remember. His great grand nephew could be annoying sometimes.
All the Neocats held him in awe, sometimes he used it to his advantage, most of the time he chafed under their gaze. Sure, he was old, he'd had the anti-geriatric treatments in his youth before the Xeno war. He had been nearly 40 when his ship had been lost, picked up and sold here on Epsilon 60 long years ago. Long, long years, he thought, staring into his mug. Years that had him feeling the weight of his age now more than ever.
“So, you said you were going to tell me about an orbital drop swarm next time we meet?” Rajar said, giving up on hiding his eagerness as he took the bar stool next to the old yellow Neotiger.
Jerry chuckled, slapping the yellow Neotiger on his good left arm. “Give it up kid,” he said, shaking his head.
“I'm getting a little too old, and you are getting way to eager for this shit,” Nohar growled, knowing he was going to give in. “And don't uncle Nohar me,” he warned, holding a finger up.
He turned, catching the disappointed wide eyed puppy look of the young neolion. He sighed, knowing he was going to give in. Hell, the doc's said talking about it was good, it relieved the mental stress attached to the event. But sometimes things were best left in the past. He saw the kid wave to Kong, indicating the silver-back proprietor of the bar should refill the private eye's drinking stein. The gorilla chuffed in good humor and did so, stroking his braided gray beard. Rajar flicked a couple credit coins over to him. The gorilla wiped them up with his bar rag as he shined the bar and then turned to another customer.
Other patrons were getting closer, in expectation of the upcoming story. Nohar sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get off so easily. “Fine, one more,” he growled. He hadn't seen the kit in nearly a year, he'd filled out since then. He had the beginning of a full mane, and was putting on muscle mass. He certainly looked better than the scrawny skin and bone thing the kit had been. And he didn't look like he'd get a gut, just enough exercise to tone the muscle and keep him trim. Good he warbled another sigh as the young Neo chirruped at him like an earnest kit.
“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, flicking his ears as Rajar's ears rose expectantly. “I've been in a couple drop swarms, all the ones prior to the war were sims of course. During the war we didn't have that many opportunities to participate, I'm a ground pounder, a ranger. Army didn't usually do swarms, that was what the dumb jarheads and Navy squids where for. They formed the beach head and then we came in and did the real fighting,” he said. What a change his life had taken he thought. When he'd been stupid enough to sign up for boot, he'd loved stories like this. Of course that was before it got all too real during the Xeno war. He'd been lucky to survive the last war, trillions hadn't. Many species had died out along with thousands of star systems on both sides. Space around where the core worlds were was just that, empty, burnt out cinders and echoing memories of the life that had once flourished there.
All gone, now all but a painful memory for people like him, sleepers. People who'd been trapped in a pod, stuck in stasis for an eternity. He shivered a little, fighting to control his revulsion at the time he'd lost. At how close he'd come to being a popsicle for another 600 odd years or longer. Possibly even all of eternity... if the power in his pod had lasted that long.
“Right, I bet they had a different view of things,” Jerry murmured. Nohar growled at him. Jerry feigned fear. Nohar snorted and flicked his ears. Jerry was a motor mouth, he spoke without thinking. He was good though, a bit of a JOAT, Jack of all trades. A little bit of a mechanic, a helper in electronics for Hank, and sometimes an occasional helper for Nohar in his line of work as a PI. But his biggest problem was he didn't know when to shut up.
“Anyway, I didn't get into many drops as I said, but I did get to see one from the ground once, but it was a sim. It's different when you are on the ground, you think you are going to just clean their clock but if they do it right, the tables turn damn fast. We did one on um... Brenhem 3, which is now a memory,” he sighed shaking his head.
“But a real one? You said you did a real one?”
“Oh?” Nohar looked up, coming out of the morose memory he'd started to fall into. He shook the melancholy from his mind with difficulty. “Yeah, we did one once on a Xeno world. Snatch and grab. It was a real cluster frack, believe me kid. We, that's the 501st battalion, we were supposed to get liberty but we got backstopped. Seems a Marine transport convoy got chewed up by the Xeno raiders and we were closest so we got to go fill in the gaps.”
“Why?”
“Cause the raiders hit the transports. One of the reasons I hate being on a ship kid, helpless and all. They pop the ship with you on and it and you are dust in the wind,” Nohar said and then took a chug of beer. He wiped at his right side with the back of his left hand. Kong tossed him a bar towel. He grunted and cleaned up the light spill. He hated that, the right side of his muzzle didn't have much left in the way of lips so it leaked unless he tipped his head to the left. But of course he usually forgot, he thought absently.
“Getting old sucks,” he muttered.
“The drop?” Rajar asked, sounding anxious. Nohar snorted.
“Yeah kid, we were there, we were sent to cover a Marine force that was going in. The powers that be wanted the colony as a bridgehead into Xeno territory, we figured we could get some intel and use it as a base to stage operations. It didn't work out that way...”
He scented a familiar scent at the door just as Jerry poked him. He turned to the chimp and caught the not too subtle finger pointing to the door. “Don't look now but I think you have a customer,” Jerry said quietly.
“Ah shit,” Nohar muttered, not looking. He closed his good eye briefly. “Is it really him?”
“It's him,” Jerry said, trying to hide his disgust.
“Who?” Rajar asked, turning to the right to look. He saw a red neolion in the doorway. Most of the other Neo's in the room looked briefly but then went back to their business. A few kept a wary eye on the interloper though. “Who the hell is that? And what happened to his torso?”
“that's Solaximara, assistant director of internal affairs. He's trying to create a Neo position in the government but he's not getting anywhere. He's a politician. In a word, trouble,” Jerry grumbled.
“You don't want in on this?” Nohar asked halfheartedly.
Jerry put his hands up and shook his head no. “Hell no, keep me out of this,” he said, turning in place and getting off the stool.
“You're all heart banana breath,” Nohar grumbled, ears going flat briefly. He felt Jerry pat him on the shoulder in sympathy and then move off to a safe distance, hopefully for his sake melting into the crowd.
“How do you know this guy's here for you?” Rajar asked. He turned to Nohar and then back just in time for the other lion to spot them and come over. “Oh” Rajar said.
“My friends,” Solaximara said, hand paws spread. Nohar hunched his shoulders and closed his good eye briefly in pain, claws flexing. He felt a bang on the counter and opened the good eye to see Kong waving a finger no in rebuke.
Nohar sighed and turned. “What is it this time Solaximara?” he asked.
The red neolion put on an injured air briefly, one hand going over his heart. Before he could open his mouth he apparently decided not to waste time. He shrugged. “It's a job, as usual.”
“I've got one,” Nohar said.
“Which isn't working out, which is why you're here drowning your sorrows at Kong's instead of out in the field,” the red neolion observed. Nohar rumbled a soft growl. “Come on, I know that much about you old friend" said
Solaximara.
“I'm not your friend Solaximara, let's get that straight. Professional or nothing,” Nohar said. Friends tended to expect you to do stuff for free. He couldn't afford free, not with this damn neolion.
Epsilon Triangula wasn't a great place, he liked the moderate weather most of the year, but the people sucked. Most of the humans were prudish, in the cities they dressed in Victorian outfits, decked out from head to toe in layers of clothing. Down south and in rural areas they were more rustic and looser in dress, but here in the so called big city? Not so much. Even though Hazard was a bit of a humid hot house in the summer they were still wearing layers of clothing and looking down on Neo's who went around wearing mostly their own fur.
Of course it wasn't just the humans that were bad seed. Case in point, the damn neolion. He was trouble, pure and simple. The lion was one of a kind, a politician. A human in a lion's skin. He would probably wear a suit if he could find one that wouldn't itch and make him look stupid.
“Can we have some privacy?” Solaximara asked, waving to the Neocougar bar maid to get them a table. She nodded.
“Anything you want to say to uncle Nohar you can say to me,” Rajar said with an air of offended dignity.
“Sorry kid, this is business,” Nohar said. “Another time,” he said, picking up his drink with his good hand. He turned and followed the bar maid to the back of the bar away from the other patrons.
She occasionally shot looks over her shoulder, coy flirting looks to go along with the playful flick of her white tipped tail. Nohar was fairly certain they weren't for him either. He made a mental note of that as they each settled into the booth. Solaximara ordered a beer from the Neocougar then after she fetched it, he took a sip and waited until she moved off to serve the other patrons.
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